P Terribilis
by Campy Capybara
Summary: Written in April 2005, before HBP was released.  It was a Potion Class accident: A perfectly brewed Maude's Curse, but with a complication... the frogs are poisonous, so how would their True Love be able to survive the kiss?  DM/HG
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: **This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

* * *

**P. Terribilis**

Professor Severus Snape glared at Vincent Crabbe, the Slytherin responsible for this latest potions fiasco.

"What were you thinking?" he bit out in a whisper, surveying the damage wrought by Crabbe's inattention in class. "Or were you thinking at all in the first place?"

Contrary to popular Gryffindor belief, Vincent Crabbe was in reality a rather decent potions student. Although Snape's favouritism over the members of his House ensured that the Snake House had greater learning resources in the study of potions, Vincent's friendship with the academically gifted Draco Malfoy also guaranteed that he benefited from Draco's study sessions, much to the gratification of his Head of House.

Therefore, Vincent's potion accident that occurred that afternoon made the professor all the more furious for his actual _competence_ at the subject.

"I… I… " The beefy young man could only tremble before the dark, surly man. It did not matter that Vincent Crabbe at seventeen was half a head taller than his Housemaster, or that he was twice the mass of the Professor; to each student in the class, Professor Snape had that nightmarish quality which enabled him to reduce any Upperclassman to a snivelling firstie.

"What did you _do_?" The quiet whisper threatened more than any loud ejaculations the professor could have made. The entire class of Slytherins and Gryffindors visibly winced at the professor's tone, even as they gave their full attention to the scene before them.

"I… I…"

"Speak up." The professor narrowed his eyes.

"I… I… took the wrong book…" Crabbe trailed off, pointing to the text he used. "Page 239 was… was correct… only—" he winced "—only it was the wrong book," he ended quietly, gulping. "Draco… um… Draco left that—" he swallowed nervously, then thought better than to blame a Malfoy "—um… er… he… er… I must've taken it by… by mistake."

The professor picked up the familiar tome, flipping it to the front. _Moste Potente Potions_. Flipping it back to page 239, he read the top – "Maude's Curse".

"Imbecile! Did I not tell you to brew the Mood Enhancement potion?"

At this, the class murmured, and Gregory Goyle, Vincent's potions partner, spoke up. "But Professor, you just told us to brew the potion on page 239 of our text. You did not mention the Enhancement—"

"Did you not notice, Mr. Goyle, that your partner had the wrong book?"

"No… no sir," Goyle backed down from the fury radiating from the professor.

"Look!"

The attention of the entire class was now drawn to Lavender Brown, who was pointing to the two piles of clothes in the aisle between the Gryffindor and Slytherin tables. Two tiny uniformly orange coloured frogs climbed out of the messy woollen materials.

Immediately, Ron Weasley's hand shot out to grab hold of the one that emerged from the set of Gryffindor robes, only to be pulled back quick as a flash by Neville Longbottom.

"No, Ron! Their skin is deadly poisonous! One touch of the _phyllobates terribilis'_ poison, and you'll be dead before you can say 'Godric Gyffindor'!"

The silent tension in the class escalated. All that could be heard in the room was the long trill which one of the frogs made.

oOo

_There you are, my love!_

_You are a vision in loveliness._

_I've pined for you for so long,_

_Put me out of my misery…_

_Kiss me!_

oOo

Poisonous frogs. Severus Snape sighed, pinching the ridge of his crooked hooked nose as he pondered the situation, sitting in the Headmaster's quietly humming office.

Fortunately for him, that pathetically inept potions student of his – Longbottom – was an Aficionado of All Things Amphibious, and knew how to care for the vile creatures. He shuddered to think how much more complicated it could possibly be if Weasley actually died because of a frog's touch. Thinking back to that moment in the classroom, if the situation were not so desperate, Longbottom's lovingly long lecture following his 'rescue' of Weasley, regarding the _phyllobates terribilis_ – The Poison Dart Frog, in layman's term – was so uncharacteristic of the bumbling seventh year, it could almost be described as amusing.

Fortunately, the lengthy lecture was cut short – Severus had to re-assert his authority once more to stop the verbal diarrhoea that "Professor" Longbottom wished to inflict _his_ potion students. _Twenty points from Gryffindor for Neville's interruption of his class, and a detention for Crabbe's potion disaster seemed just about right,_ he smiled deviously. After meting out the very just punishments for their disruptions to his class, he had quickly levitated the two frogs into a large jar, given the frogs to Longbottom, and charged him with their survival whilst he consulted with the Headmaster.

_Why on Earth couldn't the two of them be transformed into a more common breed of frogs?_ He pursed his thin lips in consternation.

"It seems, Severus," the Headmaster said, once he read through page 239 of _Moste Potente Potions_, "the only way to break the enchantment would be for Miss Granger and Mr Malfoy's True Love to kiss them."

_Great. That's a simple enough solution to the problem._

_What else could go wrong?_

oOo

The mind of a simple creature was simple. To ensure that the circle of life continued, instincts dictate that a mating call must always be answered.

_And how terribly poetic was that divine creature that sang to her! _ She sighed, moved beyond words.

However, the sudden flight the female frog was sent on caused her great fear and confusion, and then, to her joy, she was put into a strange confinement with that fine specimen that sang to her!

But he wasn't singing to her anymore.

oOo

Ronald Weasley and Pansy Parkinson were called into the Headmaster's office, along with Longbottom and the frogs.

"But how are we to know which is Granger and which is Malfoy?" Snape bit out in quiet frustration.

"That's just the problem, Professor," Longbottom rolled his eyes in exasperation. Obviously, the presence of the Headmaster at this meeting gave the usually nervous young man the courage to be impertinent. "I was going to tell you to put them into separate jars with labels when you simply levitated them both into the same jar. The thing is, unless Malfoy gives the mating call, no one will be able to identify their sex. He's stopped giving that call when you levitated them.

"Anyway, I've separated them into two charmed jars. The minute Malfoy sings, his jar label will turn blue."

_Again, Longbottom's done it again,_ Snape sneered. He wasn't able to brew a simple potion, but give him a frog or a toad and he's sufficiently motivate to use that brain of his. _Harrumph_!

The humans in the Headmaster's office and the portraits all took a sudden interested look at the frogs, as if by their curious stare, one of them would start trilling that all important call.

oOo

He couldn't sing her. He had sung to her, but it had cause a strange wind to lift them both into a strange space. He couldn't risk singing to her anymore. He would never knowingly put her in danger.

She was perfection personified. She was beautiful beyond words or song.

The perfect mother for all his babies.

His heart's mate.

He was in her presence, and just as he was about to sing to her, they were separated by that strange wind once more.

This time, he was put into another strange space – a torturous place. A place where he could still see her, but he couldn't scent her. A place where he could still see her, but he couldn't be sure if she could see him.

He was frustrated. He was depressed.

He wondered if she could hear him and come to where he was. He wasn't sure. This strange place he was in echoed his breath hollowly. He wasn't sure if she could hear his love song.

oOo

"While waiting for Draco's performance," Dumbledore said with a benign smile, "let me explain to the two of you why you are called here."

Gesturing to the seats before him, he continued once the students sat down. "It appears that Mr. Crabbe had brewed Maude's Curse. This was the same potion used long ago by Maude of Monteville to transform a prince into a frog. I believe muggles have immortalised this story as 'The Frog Prince'."

The Headmaster's eyes twinkled brightly at the seated students, who failed to see their Potions Master's shudder. Snape was well acquainted that the Headmaster's eye twinkle – enough to know that what was required of the students would possibly involve embarrassing conditions.

"According to that story," the Headmaster continued, "the only way to reverse the effects of the potion would be for the potion victim's True Love's kiss to break the enchantment."

Staring intensely at the stunned Gryffindor and Slytherin before him, he added ominously, "And this is where the two of you come in."

oOo

The confining area was warm and moist. There were two crickets with her. She supposed she could eat them, but at the moment, their inane chatter was comforting.

She did not understand it. He had called her. She heard him clearly. His voice was warm and hypnotic, and she had recognised her heart's mate deep within her. Was this the thing she was desperately trying to remember?

oOo

"You want _me_ to kiss a deadly poisonous frog?" Pansy's gratingly high-pitched voice rose even higher.

"Miss Parkinson… Pansy," Dumbledore gentled his voice into what he hoped was a sufficiently grandfatherly and comforting tone, "We're quite sure that your love for Draco would overcome the effects of the spell. You would not come to harm."

"But… but… to kiss that slimy, little, poisonous thing would be gross! Not only that, I might even die from it if it turns out that I… that I'm not his True Love!"

"Ah, but Pansy, the path to true love is not without risk," Dumbledore nodded sagely. "Besides, it would be just like kissing a chocolate frog."

"I _eat_ chocolate frogs. Not _kiss_ them!" she retorted, enfolding her arms and leaned back into her chair, confused, angry and worried.

Would she dare to risk her life to see if she was indeed Draco's True Love? She knew she was infatuated with the snarky, handsome Slytherin since their first year together. But Draco had never given her any indication that he loved her more than a friend. Did she dare gamble with her very life to see if their current relationship was enough to break the enchantment?

No. She doubted that she inspired anything more than friendship to Draco. Draco was not the type of person who would hide his feelings from her, knowing that she had a crush on him. He would have declared himself to her already – but his heart was not easily touched.

Pansy's face settled into a grim mien, her shoulders slumped. Dumbledore knew then that Pansy was a no-go.

He then turned to Ron with a little more confidence. A hot-blooded Gryffindor would certainly step forward bravely to rescue a damsel in distress. It was only a single kiss, after all. Moreover, Dumbledore had seen the protective way young Weasley behaved around Miss Granger; he was quite sure that Mr. Weasley's kiss would be sufficient to break the enchantment.

"Mr. Weasley?"

The fiery-haired boy looked up from his thoughts with a frown. "I'm sorry, Headmaster, I don't think… that is, I…"

Snape gave an exasperated snort. "What is the matter, boy? Don't you love her?"

Riled by the Potion Master's bluntness, Ron stood up, hands clenched and face as red as his hair. "Love her? Of course I love her! I love her like I love Ginny! Frankly, I don't think that's enough, do you?"

The Headmaster leaned back in his chair, his twinkle gone, his shoulders slumped. "And Harry?"

"Harry's… Hermione's our best friend," he stated simply, knowing that that wasn't the answer that would help Hermione in the least.

"But you're not in love with anyone else, are you?" Snape sneered. "Miss Granger would be quite a catch for you, if you manage to break the enchantment."

"I… I…" he bit his lips, looking at the Headmaster, Pansy, Neville and then the frogs in the separate jars. Very softly, so softly that he hoped Pansy and Neville would not hear him, he whispered, "I can't be her true love… I'm in love with Luna."

"What? That loony Ravenclaw?" Pansy shrieked out in laughter. Neville, who was not able to hear Ron, raised his eyebrows at Pansy's remarks. This was definitely grist for the Hogwarts mills.

Ron blushed a deep scarlet – part embarrassment, part anger. "Her name is Luna, Parkinson."

"Ooh, protective, aren't we? I'm _sooo_ scared," she taunted, Draco's predicament quickly forgotten.

By the end of dinnertime, no doubt the entire school would know of his secret love, Ron groaned inwardly.

oOo

Could he call her? Should he call her?

She looked so lost and so sad.

He was a leaf climber, not a jumper, but he could try getting out of this place. Perhaps if he hit the walls with enough force…

oOo

"This is a pathetic farce!" the Head of Slytherin mulled, rubbing his temples, eyes closed.

The Headmaster merely stroked his flowing white beard, ignoring the younger man.

"Mr. Weasley, Miss Parkinson, you are both rather close to Miss Granger and Mr. Malfoy. Would you know if they harboured feelings for certain other persons in school?"

Pansy shook her head and shrugged.

Ron, who had re-seated himself, ran his hand through his hair and replied, "None that I know of…"

"We must therefore conclude that if they had a _tendre_ for anyone in school, it was kept secret from us," Dumbledore sighed. "Well, Severus, I think we've done all we can for now. Perhaps time is what is needed before Mr. Malfoy and Miss Granger's True Loves are found. Certainly in the muggle tale, it took the Frog Prince some time before his princess broke the curse."

"So what are we to do with them?" Snape nodded towards the two jars on the table.

"I think their parents ought to be notified. Mr. Longbottom, I'd need you to prepare for me two parchments on the care of the _phyllobates terribilis_ for the Grangers and the Malfoys. Goodness knows that if not for the enchantments on the jars, these delicate tropical creatures would have easily died in our Scottish environment."

"I'll do that immediately sir," Neville nodded enthusiastically.

oOo

What was he doing? He seemed to be jumping wildly against the barrier! Was he mad? He just couldn't be!

Oh, but how clever he was! His confinement was moving! Was that how a frog moved the barrier? Perhaps if she did so as well…

oOo

The owls were dispatched, with the owl heading for the Granger home listing aside with the heavier parchment attached with a Portkey.

"Since we've decided to take this course of action, I think the only thing we can do now is to wait for the parents to come claim their children," Dumbledore announced with a heavy heart. "Come, it's nearly dinnertime. We should all adjourn to the Great Hall."

"What about the frogs, sir?" Neville asked, reluctant to leave such rare specimens behind.

"We'll leave them here. Their environments are enchanted, and it's certainly more peaceful here compared to the Great Hall. My office is a much safer place than the dormitories – curious younger students might accidentally release them, not to mention the even more curious familiars that roam our school for unsuspecting preys. Worry not, Neville, they will be safe here."

"What about Fawkes?"

Dumbledore smiled. "He won't eat them. He knows better. No, Fawkes will watch over them."

Assured, yet saddened, the five left the office, with Dumbledore doubling the ward just in case.

oOo

TBC.

A/N: Written in April 2005. Which means that at the time this was written, Half-Blood Prince wasn't published yet. So please don't review telling me about how wrong it is that Dumbledore is alive or that Hermione didn't go to Hogwarts in their 7th year. ;) The story was 75% finished and in need of heavy editing, but I've blown off the dust bunnies on this one and I think it'll take a couple more chapters to complete it.

Hardy, E. 2001. "Phyllobates terribilis" (On-line), Animal Diversity Web. Accessed August 13, 2004 at http: / animaldiversity. ummz. umich. edu /site /accounts /information /Phyllobates_terribilis. html. (remove spaces, of course.)


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER: **This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**P. Terribilis 2**

oOo

Was it night already? The sun disappeared in an instant in this strange place.

He was tired, but seeing that she was following him in moving the walls renewed his vigour. They might yet get out of this and make those babies he wanted.

oOo

She was scared. Half the floor was a sheer drop; the other half was on the ground. But his confinement was in a similar situation as hers, and he continued to jump against that barrier.

She would trust him with her life.

For didn't he sang of his love for her? His song said so – and a frog always meant his word.

oOo

Crash! Crash!

They were free! Large sharp pieces of that confinement were everywhere, and he could feel himself bleeding where he was cut. But he was alive and free of that strange place. But where was she? Was she hurt?

_Where are you my love?_

_You are my vision of loveliness._

_I've pined for you for so long,_

_Put me out of my misery…_

_Kiss me!_

There! There under that larger piece, away from the scatter of the bits of confinement! She was trying to push her way out, but the edges were sharp and cutting her.

Quickly, he moved towards her, still singing his love song.

_My love, my love_

_My bride, my babies' mother_

_I've pined for you for so long,_

_Put me out of my misery…_

_Kiss me!_

There was barely space for the frogs to touch, but he managed to lay his hands on hers, which calmed her down and stopped her struggling against that sharp edge.

She was bleeding, and it cut his heart.

_My love, my love, _he sang, _Kiss me!_

As their lips met, a vortex of wind and light tore through the room. The trill of his song lifted them up, but this time they were together. They clutched tightly to each other, lips locked, eyes closed. They felt themselves transformed; their mating song binding their hearts and soul – there was magic in the air, and that magic was both in them and around them.

They were both standing, panting on the carpeted floor when the dust settled.

"My love?" the words he whispered sounded strange on his tongue, as he slowly opened his eyes. "_GRANGER?_" a shocked Draco sputtered, as he held Hermione in the circle of his arm.

At that, Hermione's passion-darkened eyes opened, the dreaminess in them clearing in an instant.

"_MALFOY?_"

In a heartbeat, Hermione had extricated herself from him. But it didn't mean that he didn't take the time to fully appreciate her form.

He'd always known that Hermione was a beautiful witch, although truth be told, he had deaden his heart to hope that there could possibly be a relationship between them whilst they were studying at Hogwarts. There were just too many differences and history between them, and he was pained to admit that any possibility of a relationship between the two of them could only come about once they have left Hogwarts and left their stupid childhood rivalry behind.

If ever.

And if it weren't for Crabbe's potion accident today, he would probably never get the chance to see her in all her gorgeous glory.

oOo

_I am a shallow, shallow witch_, she thought, ruefully.

Here she was, naked as the day she was born, and all she could do was to ogle the very naked Slytherin Prince of her infatuation.

And yes, she had always been aware of Draco Malfoy, even in her early years at Hogwarts. She had never been indifferent to him and considered him her closest academic rival. While Ron had always consoled her with the thought that Malfoy trounced her only because Lucius Malfoy bought Draco's way forward, she knew that without innate ability, especially at the higher years, no amount of bribery could allow Malfoy to achieve his grades. Furthermore, while academic achievements may be bribed, Lucius' involvement on Malfoy's Quidditch talents was limited to buying only the best equipment galleons could buy. State-of-the-art Quidditch equipment can only go so far in the hands of mediocre athletes, and it wasn't as if Harry was too poor to afford the same kind of advantage. Hermione wasn't alone in the knowledge that Malfoy took his training seriously and with an equal intensity as Harry did. Most mornings the two rivals could be seen whizzing in dizzying acrobatics across the Quidditch pitch, greeting the dawn.

And such a focussed ethos on work and play, coupled with that handsome visage, can only appeal with one such as her, who was constantly challenged the more he put her down with his casual insult of her person.

She never forgot to return _that_ favour.

Therefore their interactions had always held that element of quick exchange of wit, as they matched verbal swords. And it was only recently that she admitted to herself their exchanges held an undercurrent of awareness… at least on her side.

She knew what she felt for him - _lust, definitely _- and that kiss! _Oh that kiss!_

It felt like that kiss had consisted of light and giddy weightlessness. It felt transformative, that kiss!

But he easily broke the enchantment the minute he discovered it was the Gryffindor swot that he was kissing, for didn't he look horrified at the idea?

To say that she was embarrassed was an understatement.

_No doubt he expected some Slytherin princess worthy of a Malfoy_, she thought, hurt and unhappy.

But while she might be upset at his reaction, a wholly different part of her brain quickly catalogued Malfoy's Quidditch-toned body, his easy grace as he stood there, looking back at her with narrowed eyes.

He was certainly _not_ embarrassed to be found naked in a room with a naked girl.

And no wonder - not only did he look handsome in what he wore, he was certainly handsome even out of it. All those morning practices did a world of good for him, and not only for his Quidditch form at that.

In a split second her brilliant mind weighed and judged the circumstances and came to two conclusions. The first one was that in another lifetime, one where Draco Malfoy was less antagonistic, less caustic, less _Slytherin_, him being _less_ his clothes would be a state that she'd want to keep him perpetually in.

The second was that this wasn't that lifetime.

Therefore, with the Gryffindor adage that a good offense is the best defense, Hermione changed her stance. She forgot her embarrassment and her lack of clothes. Narrowing her eyes, her hands at her hips, and her head tilted critically, she launched the first slavo:

"It looks like someone's in real need of some _engorgio_ charm!"

oOo

Draco huffed and rolled his eyes in disbelief.

She might look like a goddess, but that witch clearly needed glasses of Trelawney's ilk.

She must be quite desperate to pick on what was very obviously an extremely engorged part of his anatomy… as if he could help it, being squarely in one of his many unfulfilled fantasies involving her.

Nonetheless, he always gave as good as he got, so he crossed his arm, took a step forward, putting himself into her personal space, sneered down at her and said, "At least, you don't have to use _obliviate_ any time soon!"

oOo

_Oh that-_, she mentally sputtered._ Obliviate, eh? I'll show you obliviate!_

She leaned forward, putting her close enough to jab his chest with her pointer finger.

"At least _you_ don't have to disinfect your mouth with-"

She couldn't finish her sentence, for by then he had grabbed her and stopped her rant with a most punishing kiss.

Hermione wasn't taking _that_ angry kiss passively, oh no. If anything, her courage always rose at every attempt to intimidate her, and clearly Malfoy intended that she be shut up in such a base and unfair manner.

Therefore, with one hand, she grabbed the back of his head to prevent him from breaking from the kiss, and with the other, she held on tightly to his very firm biceps.

_Ha! See if you'd ever want to stop my rant like that again-_, she thought, but at this point, she was beginning to realise that Malfoy didn't appear to want to stop what he was doing, especially when he moved his left hand and began pulling her closer to him. She was certainly not immune to the delicious feelings that this wrought and was starting to tingle all over.

And that was when Dumbledore's office brightened and their kiss broke for a second time.

oOo

The minute the jars crashed down, an alarm alerted the Headmaster, who promptly left the High Table with Professors McGonagall (who had been given a short briefing as to her House's most brilliant charge) and Snape. Longbottom was promptly summoned from his steak and kidney pie and the quartet moved as fast as they could to the stone gargoyle and up the moving staircase to Dumbledore's office.

A swish and flick later, the dimly-lit office brightened up revealing two very naked students, engaged in what appeared to be an angry, punishing snogging session.

Snape fainted, McGonagall blushed and Dumbledore ushered Longbottom from the room. A quick _Oblivate_ on Longbottom saw him sent back to his steak and kidney pie, with a vague sense of _dejavu_.

Severus was _Enervated_, Minerva was calmed down, and Dumbledore re-entered his office without his deputies.

By this time, the kissing couple had broke up, standing apart from each other, glaring angrily at the other, fists clenched, panting as if they ran a mile.

Dumbledore quickly conjured two sets of uniforms for his students and sent them in the general directions of the 7th Years. "When you are dressed, we'll talk," he concluded, leaving the room.

oOo

After Dumbledore left the office, neither Draco nor Hermione moved an inch towards the uniforms lying at their bare feet.

"Why'd you do that for?" she asked.

"That was the only way to get you to shut up," was the quick reply.

But before Hermione could add another verbal parry, he moved quickly over to her side and turned her so that her back faced his scrutiny.

"What-?" she said, before she was cut off.

"You're _bleeding_!" he exclaimed angrily, as if it were _her_ fault for not taking care of herself.

"I… I must have cut myself... on the glass?" she ended, feeling confused.

It was then the couple noticed the shattered glass at their feet and the general chaos of Dumbledore's office. Looking down, they had also cuts on their feet and were leaving trails of blood on the floor.

"I… I don't understand." Hermione shook her head. "I don't remember," she continued, turning back to look at her companion.

And then, to her consternation, she saw that Malfoy had closed his eyes in concentration, and was hovering his hand over her bared back. She felt the stinging open wound stitch itself closed, and a warm tingle that had nothing to do with the lust she felt for him blanketing the area where his hands hovered.

_Wandless healing magic… and a powerful one at that._

"Malfoy?" she whispered, when he sighed in exhaustion after that intense exertion.

"We'd better get changed and then see about getting our feet healed by Pomfrey," was his curt reply.

Putting words into action, he bent down to retrieve her uniform, and shoved it into her hands. He crossed over to his pile of uniform and began putting on his clothes, facing away from her. It would not do to tempt himself further. The two kisses they exchanged were wrecking havoc on his senses, and it would not do to disillusion her of his true feelings about her.

When Dumbledore returned to the office, the students were dressed, sans their footwear. By this time, Dumbledore had Pomfrey with him, and she had brought with her two levitating chairs to bring them to the Infirmary.

"Your parents were notified about what had happened, and are on the way to Hogwarts," Dumbledore said, as the pupils were helped into the chairs by Pomfrey. A House Elf appeared to deal with the broken glass and the chaos. "After your ordeal, Madam Pomfrey would like to keep you for observation first, before you meet your respective parents."

"Professor, my _parents_ were notified?" Hermione ventured, cutting her eyes to Malfoy to see what he made of the news. "What _exactly_ happened to us?" she continued.

"All in good time, my dear. All in good time," was the only reply she got, before Madam Pomfrey whisked her charges off to the Infirmary.

TBC.

Hardy, E. 2001. "Phyllobates terribilis" (On-line), Animal Diversity Web. Accessed August 13, 2004 at http: . /site/accounts/information/Phyllobates_terribilis .html.


End file.
